Just Like The Others
by Magmortified
Summary: Mainly about people who cheat through Pokemon. Oneshot.


Night was falling in Viridian City. But unlike so many other days that the city had seen with the lights slowly fading as the inhabitants prepared for bed. The city was alive, and the air was abuzz with excitement. A tournament had been announced for Viridian City three weeks ago, and tomorrow was the day it started. Promising to be one of the greatest events since the conquering of the Elite Four, trainers all over Kanto scrambled to join. Among these was a young man by the name of Henry Williams.

Henry, now fifteen, had been a late bloomer in starting his journey. Only two years previously, when he was a thirteen-year-old boy. But in those two years, Henry had assembled himself teams of powerful, well-trained Pokemon. In those two years, Henry had been learning to hack Bill's personal computer, where stored Pokemon from every trainer in Kanto and Johto were kept. Why shouldn't he? After all, it was much easier than actually going out to find and train the Pokemon himself. Fully-trained Pokemon were only a few clicks away, why take the time to go out and deal with all of the hard work? Not to mention that it was exciting for him, knowing that he had found his way into the computer system of Kanto's all-time expert. He didn't feel any sorrow for those that 'donated' his Pokemon. They were just random people, he saw hundreds of them every day. No more important to him than any other animal.

Now Henry was entering the Viridian tournament. Remembering all of the powerful Pokemon he now had in his box, he couldn't help but smile; victory would be quick. Watching from his window at the hotel he was staying at, he saw the dozens of other trainers. Most of them were practicing with Ratatta, Ponyta, or some other obscure Pokemon. Logging onto the room's computer, he hacked into Bill's network. By the time Henry was in bed, he had a brand new Tyranitar, courtesy of somebody else.

The next day was busier than Viridian had seen in a long time, people crowded in the streets to watch the battles. Of course, to prevent what would have otherwise been a hugely disorganized mess. Each trainer had to register before the tournament started. Checking the trainer's Pokemon was a part of the registration process. Henry however, managed to avoid suspicion over all of his Pokemon having different I.D. numbers by telling everybody who would listen that he was an enthusiastic trader. The registration officer didn't appear to notice anything out of the ordinary. Even if Henry refused all trade offers he had been given, he still looked to be just another blond-haired trainer in the crowd, and it wasn't like he had a criminal record. Henry walked out of the building as a registered trainer.

Now he was walking down the streets, having easily crushed his given opponent, Henry had time to spare. Depositing his Pokemon into his account at the hotel room, he walked outside. There was something to see wherever Henry looked, a battle raging in some available space, vendors selling various Pokemon-based snacks to passerby, and musicians playing dramatic songs to accent the battles (as well as to get a tip or two). It seemed more like a kind of fair, rather than a tournament. Then again, Viridian didn't get very many big events, it was only natural that they'd pull out all the stops.

Hours later, Henry stumbled into his room and fell onto the bed. It was an exhausting day after all; he had seen and done most all that this side of Viridian City had to offer. Turning on the room's computer, he smiled vaguely. Anticipating tomorrow's easy victory, and the chance to explore the rest of Viridian afterwards. The only question was whether or not he should 'borrow' a few more Pokemon for the next battle. Henry decided to do so, after all, there was still the chance that some new and exciting Pokemon had been generously left for him by their owners.

Logging into his account, he saw something that he truly did not expect: the blank screen indicating an empty box. There had to be a mistake, he restarted the computer and tried again. The blank screen still showed, Henry stared grimly at it for a long while; another hacker had found his account. The same process Henry himself used so many times had been used against him. Screaming, he told himself that he had won those Pokemon, they were his, and somebody had taken them away. But subconsciously, Henry knew that what had won him so many battles, was no quality of his.

He thought for a moment, of trying to regain his lost Pokemon. But then, he realized exactly what caused the other trainers outside his window so much satisfaction. It had been their effort into training their own Pokemon to do well, not winning with something that another person had done. They didn't cheat their way to the top.

Henry began to understand what he had done to the many others that he had hacked. The feeling of losing their prized Pokemon to somebody else. Perhaps he had once known that hacking wasn't the true way to do things, no better than stealing a Pokemon directly. But that had been lost in his drive for victory, and it took the loss of every single Pokemon he owned to unearth that. Then he began to think on what would happen if he just tried to start over again, what would happen if he made a fresh start. Thinking for a long while, Henry had finally made his decision.

Checking his account for the final time, Henry found that a new message had been sent to him. Attached was a single Pokemon; apparently, the person that had hacked into his account did not wish to leave him totally destitute. The attached Pokemon was a Pidgey, he gazed at it, trying to remember how he had obtained a Pidgey in the first place. He certainly wouldn't have taken such a weak Pokemon from another account. Then Henry realized that the Pidgey had been one of the first Pokemon he had ever caught, before he decided to start hacking. When a fair victory meant something to him.

Making a silent vow to himself, Henry took his Pidgey, and checked out of his hotel room. Anybody who looked at the registration list the next morning would see that Henry Williams' name was no longer on it. Had anybody been in Viridian Forest that morning, instead of at the tournament. They would have seen a boy no older than the age of fifteen, training a small Pidgey.


End file.
